


Matryoshka Cage

by Blubunn



Series: Come Back To Me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x20, 12x22, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catatonia, Character Death, Hurt, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 11:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blubunn/pseuds/Blubunn
Summary: Mary discovers what the BMoL are really doing, and escapes to tell her sons. The Winchesters put together a team to put an end to the BMoL once and for all. Dean finally finds out where Castiel has been this whole time.





	Matryoshka Cage

**Author's Note:**

> [Based on these](https://blusart.tumblr.com/post/164189236745)   
>  [Master Artpost (*spoilers*)](http://blusart.tumblr.com/tagged/comebacktomeverse/chrono)

“I don’t play nice,” Mary growled as she shook off the headbutt she’d given Ketch, keeping her eyes trained on him, but she missed a beat and he swung. She reeled from his hit, but she heard him cry out from his shoulder she’d dislocated. She took that moment to collect herself, reaching into her pocket for the Enochian brass knuckles she’d been supplied.

“Are we done?” Ketch gasped out as he struggled to regain his balance. He looked up as Mary raised her brass fist and scoffed out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Those Enochian brass knuckles only work on angels, and sadly, I’m not an--” he was interrupted when she kicked him square between the legs. He cried out as he gripped himself, falling forward and shutting his eyes from the pain.

Mary didn’t skip a beat this time. She swung when he began to rise, punching him to the ground. She straddled him and punched him again. Again. Again. His face was bloodied and almost unrecognizable when he finally fell unconscious. “Brass knuckles,” she taunted, punching him again for emphasis, “are brass knuckles.” Then, she ran, aiming for the garage where she could steal one of the MoL vehicles.

It wasn’t until she was an hour from the headquarters that she was calm enough to call Dean again. “I’m heading to the bunker,” she barked when she got his voicemail. “The British Men of Letters...they killed Mick. They’re watching us. Dean, they’re trying to kill American hunters. All of us.” She hung up and threw her phone on the passenger seat, pressing harder on the gas. She hoped that Dean and Sam would be at the bunker when she got there.

=============

Ketch inhaled when he came to, but gasped through his mouth when wasn’t able to get enough air through his cracked nasal passages. “That bitch…” he wheezed, groaning as he rolled to push himself to his knees. He took another breath through his mouth and pushed up again till he was on his feet. He rolled his head, coughing from the blood that was filling the back of his mouth from his nose. He pushed himself toward the interrogation rooms, eyeing the door only he had access to.

Castiel flinched when the door to his room pushed open. The Enochian chains that bound him clamored against each other as he began to tremble when Ketch came into view. “All right, halo,” he rasped as he secured the door shut behind him. “You’re going to heal me, and then,” he looked over Castiel’s naked, shaking body. Ketch had worked on Castiel a bit since he picked him up, but it wasn’t obvious. The angel’s healing power kept him in pristine condition, which only pleased Ketch more as he loved having an endless supply of clean canvases to work with through Castiel. Right now, however, Ketch had more in mind than just tearing him apart so he could watch him put himself back together. Ketch was not only angry, but now that Mary guaranteed that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her, he found himself ready to use the angel further. He mused at that thought and, as he moved to a cabinet at his end of the room to retrieve an angel blade, he speculated that there was no reason he couldn’t do both.

Ketch gave Castiel a wicked smile, blood oozing around his teeth. The sight bit Castiel so deep into his core that he was unable to find any pleasure in the obvious beating Ketch had received. He knew that he was going to bear the consequences of that fight. The jangle of the chains seemed to fill the room as Castiel tried to back away, pulling them so tightly against his skin as he tried to increase the distance between him and Ketch. Castiel was no stranger to torture, but this man was a monster all his own. In heaven nor hell, there was no creature like Arthur Ketch. He coupled his torture with words. He knew what to say to Castiel to weaken his resolve against the physical. His resolution that he was more than just his vessel crashed around him when Ketch got his tools on his body and his words in his ears. It was all he could do to build the wall that would protect himself from this thing called Arthur Ketch. As Castiel put down a brick, Ketch would kick two off. That was when he was in a good mood.

“And then,” Ketch continued as he stepped toward the shuddering angel, “you’re going to help me make sure that Winchester bitch didn’t ruin me below.” It wouldn’t be long until Castiel understood what he meant. He tripled his efforts to build his wall because by the time Ketch’s words were made clear, the shredded, bleeding angel wished with his entire being that he never wondered at their meaning.

=============

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean growled as he limped through the British headquarters behind his team of the hunters Sam recruited. Dean’s shots were methodical, accurate. Anyone who crossed his team’s path never made it past Dean’s rear line of defense. If they tried to come up the rear, Dean was ready to play the front line. These British monsters were just little kids regurgitated from a school. They didn’t compare to Dean’s field experience. Even with a broken leg, Dean could handle these people. So he let his training take over while he returned his thoughts to Castiel.

Dean prayed to him to help them out of the bunker when Ketch locked the Winchester family in it, but he never came. In the end, Dean had blown a hole in the bunker and they got out that way. Dean shrugged a little at that thought. He couldn’t help admitting that was pretty cool. He broke his leg in the blast, but he did feel pretty awesome finally firing that launcher.

Dean clicked his tongue irritatedly at that thought. “Where are you, man?” Dean murmured as he slunk around. Regardless of the pleasure he took in firing that launcher, he rathered Castiel had shown up to rescue them. Even if he appeared after they escaped, at least then Dean would know he was safe.

Ketch’s face interrupted his thoughts, bringing him out of his autopilot training. The team had been whittled down to just Dean, his other companion who made it through was blasted away as soon as Ketch took notice of him. He probably would have made quick work of Dean too, but for some reason, he didn’t move. Dean found him standing there, smiling that smug, wicked grin of his, but he didn’t make a move. He stood in front of a door as though he was guarding it.

"How fortuitous." Ketch very slowly raised his hand and tapped his knuckle on the door behind him. “There’s a present in here, Dean,” he disclosed. “It’s just for you.”

Dean narrowed his eyes on Ketch, raising his gun. “There’s nothing you have that I could possibly want.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ketch teased. “Your mother told you about the taps, didn’t she? I know for a fact, that behind this door, there’s something you’re really going to want.” Ketch unbuttoned his blazer, and rolled his head. “You get through me, it’s all yours.”

Dean didn’t have time to wonder what Ketch thought he had that Dean would want. Ketch was on him almost in the blink of an eye. Dean had fired off a round, but Ketch evaded and disarmed him. Dean grabbed him, but Ketch grabbed his arms before he could get a proper hold. He slid a hand behind Dean’s neck and spun, throwing him into the wall. Dean cried out as the jolt triggered a spasm through his leg.

“When you see what I have for you,” Ketch sneered as he swaggered toward Dean. “The beating I’m going to give you will feel like the tickle of a feather.” He kicked the leg Dean had grabbed, forcing Dean to recoil back. Ketch then threw his fist down on his face, sending him back to the ground.

“I’m gonna kill you…” Dean gasped as he pushed himself up.

“You won’t,” Ketch scoffed, getting into the proper stance that readied him for Dean. He wanted to enjoy this, “but I’d very much enjoy it if you tried.” He batted Dean’s hand away when he swung at Ketch, and then again before punching Dean in the jaw. Again, another punch down while he kept his hold on Dean’s wrist to keep him from falling again.

Dean held up his hand, as if that would stop him, and Ketch laughed through his teeth. He was going to enjoy giving Dean his present. Ketch swung again, releasing his wrist and letting Dean crumple to the ground. “It spoke of you, Dean,” Ketch teased as he straightened and swayed around Dean. “It begged and pleaded for you. I was surprised. I expected it would have been tougher than that, but it broke so easily. It only took the right words. After that, it just made the most lovely sounds.” Ketch pushed Dean to his back, but Dean caught himself on his elbow.

Dean’s mind was in a haze. He could barely wrap his mind around what Ketch was even saying. He couldn’t focus when Ketch grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. “You failed it, Dean.” He punched down, sending Dean to the floor again. With a growl, Ketch yanked Dean to his feet, looking over Dean’s bloodied face, and dazed eyes. “Ah…” Ketch crooned in a way that made Dean’s lips twitch in a snarl, “this is fun…”

Dean struggled in his grip, but Ketch moved to swing again. Dean lifted his hands to catch his fist, and used Ketch’s weight to roll him over his hip, swinging him to the floor. He swayed, resting his arm on the wall as he tried to get his brain in order. He kept trying to make sense of what Ketch was saying. He tried to think of what he possibly failed. His thoughts were interrupted when Ketch kicked his broken leg, sending him to his knee and in range for Ketch to kick his face, sending him sprawling to the ground. He cried out again, his leg was in agony. His body felt like it was on fire.

Ketch straightened, watching Dean carefully. Dean couldn’t stand, and Ketch saw that. He laughed at him as he staggered over and pulled Dean up by his neck. “I’d say you’re through,” Ketch spat at him, “wouldn’t you agree?” Then Ketch was dragging Dean toward the door. “Let’s see what you’ve lost, shall we.” He threw Dean against the door frame, hitting his head on the wall before he slid to lay on the ground. Ketch pressed his hand to the panel by the door and pushed it open. He reached to grab Dean by his scruff, pulling him up and into the room to see his lost prize.

Dean’s eyes widened as he settled on his knees. “No…” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat when he surveyed the scene before him. On a stainless steel, wheeled medical table, Castiel lay so still and so quiet. He stared unblinking at the cold fluorescent lights shining above him. His body was exposed without a stitch of fabric to give him even an illusion of modesty. Castiel’s skin was clean, that pale skin with just a light kiss from the sun that gave it a golden undertone. He had no marks, no cuts, no bruises, nothing that indicated he was hurt. He wasn’t even bound.

“His eyes…” Dean murmured. Dean could see his eyes. Tears seemed to flow endlessly from those unblinking eyes. The consummate blue that had once bore into Dean, piercing, ferocious, strong, were now dull and shaded. Castiel couldn’t escape the interrogation room. He couldn’t leave his vessel. He had been unable to shut his eyes to the horrors that transpired against him, so he placed a wall, and barricaded himself behind it. Dean could see that. He could see the wall in his eyes. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?” Dean cried out as the sight before him tattooed itself into his mind. No matter what, Dean knew he would never forget this sight. Even if he was thrown into the Empty where Billie told him she would put him to disappear from existence, Dean knew this sight, right now, would haunt him even there.

Dean heard the click of a gun behind him. He felt the barrel against his head. Dean didn’t fight it. He closed his eyes, and he saw Castiel, laying there on the cold table, under the harsh light, staring, but not seeing. This would be the last thing he saw. Dean had failed it, Ketch had said. Dean had failed  _ him. _ Castiel, who fell for Dean. Castiel, who gave up everything for Dean. This was Dean’s gratitude. This was Castiel’s prize. “Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters…” Dean murmured, recalling a particularly hurtful statement Castiel said so nonchalantly when he gave Dean the vial of his blood so they could spell the bone that would kill Dick. He had smiled so innocently that day, Dean recalled, but he couldn’t see it. All he could see was Castiel’s face as it was now. Broken and empty.

The sound of a gunshot.

Ketch groaned as he staggered away from Dean. Another shot. He fell to his knees beside Dean. Dean looked at him, trying to register in his mind what was happening. “Dean!” his mother’s voice was far away as she pulled him to his feet. Mary shot Ketch in the shoulder, and then again in the leg. Dean’s vision vibrated as he looked upon Castiel again. He screamed and flung a fist down against Ketch’s face, sending him to the ground. He hit him, again and again. Mary stood back, watching her son break over Ketch. Dean clawed at the hole in Ketch’s shoulder, pulling screams from the man as he opened the hole wider. Dean tore and punched and mangled Ketch until the man began choking on his own blood. Dean never stopped screaming.

Mary went to Castiel, easing him to sit up, but keeping his back to the scene behind him. Whatever Castiel went through, she knew that if he could see what was happening to Dean, it would break his heart.

“DEAN!” Sam’s voice came through, and he rushed at Dean, pulling him away. Mary could see behind Castiel, Dean was thrashing like an animal. If they let him, he probably wouldn’t stop until Ketch was completely eviscerated. “DEAN, STOP!” Sam cried as he held Dean’s arms to his sides. It only took Sam a few moments to understand what had riled up his brother so violently. “STOP! CAS DOESN’T WANT THIS!” Dean’s screams broke, and his thrashing slowed. “Cas can’t see you like this,” Sam choked out. After a few moments, Dean was finally calm. He shook Sam from him, and strode purposefully toward Castiel, ignoring the looks he was getting from the others.

Mary stepped aside, and Dean took her place in front of Castiel. Castiel was so clean and still and quiet, he looked almost like a doll, and then Dean, covered in Ketch’s blood, smearing it over the angel’s pure skin when he reached for his hands. Castiel stared ahead, unseeing. “Cas…” Dean whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming. “Cas, it’s me. I’m here, Cas.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s. “I’m so sorry, Cas…” he professed, holding Castiel’s hands tightly. He looked into Castiel’s eyes again, his heart breaking when he didn’t see himself reflected in them. He cupped his face, “Cas--” He was interrupted when he finally saw the blood smearing on Castiel. “Shit, “ he hissed, stepping back from Castiel.

“Dean,” Mary murmured when Dean went to the sink to wash the blood from his hands. “We can clean you up at the bunker. Both of you. Let’s just get him out of here.”

“Not yet!” Dean snapped, scrubbing his hands clean, wiping his face. “No part of that douchebag is leaving with us. And I’m not letting it stay on Cas.” Mary hesitated, but remained quiet. She didn’t want to point out that Dean’s jacket was spattered with Ketch’s blood too. She only hoped he would remain blind to it long enough for them to get out. She hadn’t been in this particular room, now for obvious reasons, but the setup wasn’t very different. She found some sanitation wipes that she gave Dean to use on Castiel when he washed all the blood from his hands. Heavy silence hung in the air as everyone waited in the hallway while Dean gently wiped the blood off Castiel.

When Castiel was clean again, Dean wrapped his jacket around his shoulders. Mary’s breath caught at that, and she worried he would see the blood, but he seemed oblivious now. There was only Castiel in Dean’s vision. He cupped Castiel’s face again, looking into his eyes. “Cas?” he whispered. “Castiel, can you hear me?” Castiel didn’t respond. Only blank eyes awarded Dean’s attention. Dean sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay...I’m taking you home now,” Dean said. “We’re going home.”

Mary found a sheet and quickly covered Ketch with it so Castiel wouldn’t see it as Dean eased him to the door, finding Castiel’s body to be pliable. He held him close as he led him to the car, settling the two of them in the backseat, passing the keys to Mary, who followed close behind them. They waited for Sam, who finished the final touches to the bomb in the headquarters before joining them. Mary drove away from the base, and soon after they heard the rumble from the explosions they left behind.

Dean kept his attention on Castiel, trying to call him out from behind his wall. “Come back to me, Cas…” he murmured into his ear as he held him. “He’s dead...you’re safe...I’ll protect you…” He whispered this over and over, praying for Castiel to hear him. Dean was in such despair, he didn’t notice the flicker in Castiel’s eyes. It was such a small spark, but as Dean kept whispering, Castiel’s eyes seemed to flicker more often. “He’s dead...you’re safe...I’ll protect you...Come back to me, Cas…”

=============

_ Castiel lay curled up on the floor of his mind, wrapped in the thick wall he managed to build. It was so quiet, and so still behind the wall. It was also cold. Castiel trembled against the cold, his broken wings offering no comfort against it, but he knew he would rather stay here than go back out there with that monster. Screaming interrupted his thoughts, and Castiel perked up at the faraway sound. He unfurled his wings and moved toward the sound, toward the wall. That screaming was so far, but it still pierced his very essence like a hot poker. He wondered who was screaming. He pressed his hand to the wall, tilting his head at the scream piercing through it. Then it was quiet again. Castiel pressed his ear against the wall, trying to hear more.  _ “I’m here…”  _ he heard come through the wall. It sounded so far away, but it still made Castiel jump back from the wall. He squinted at the wall as though if he stared hard enough, the owner of the voice would make itself known. After more silence, Castiel inched forward and pressed his ear to the wall again. No sounds. It wasn’t until he began to think he wouldn’t hear anything again that he heard it,  _ “We’re going home.”  _ Castiel’s eyes widened. “It can’t be…” he murmured. He stepped back from the wall, looking it over. He willed it down, but it didn’t budge. Castiel worked so hard on this wall. There was no going in or out, but that voice. Castiel needed to know. He hit the wall with a fist. Nothing. Using his grace to power him up, he hit the wall again. Nothing. Again. Again. Again. Castiel kept beating against the wall until finally, a crack. He could hear it clearer.  _ “Come back to me, Cas…”  _ “Dean!” Castiel exclaimed.  _ “He’s dead...you’re safe...I’ll protect you...Come back to me, Cas…”  _ Castiel gathered his grace and began to beat the wall again. Dean found him. Dean rescued him. It was Dean. He spent the night beating against the crack in the wall, exposing more cracks. “Dean!” Castiel called. “Dean, I’m coming!” _


End file.
